


Tear Down My Reason

by amyfortuna



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Biting, Bloodplay, Come as Lube, Cutting, Father/Son Incest, Feanorian OT8, Knifeplay, M/M, Masochism, Nightmares, Outdoor Sex, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rough Sex, Sadism, Sibling Incest, SmutSwap treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2018-10-23 02:19:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10710141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amyfortuna/pseuds/amyfortuna
Summary: Maedhros, in the aftermath of being nearly captured by Balrogs, has nightmares, and only one of his brothers can make them go away.





	Tear Down My Reason

**Author's Note:**

  * For [linndechir](https://archiveofourown.org/users/linndechir/gifts).



> Title and story inspired by Nine Inch Nails' [Closer](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FfHpRe0rRe0).

_The Balrogs surrounded him, their whips of flame coming dangerously near his face and upper body. He could sense the swishing sound they made and the sizzle of heat as they passed him by, more threatening than harm-causing. The message was clear: he would become their captive, be carried off to Angband, and from there would never emerge again._

_Almost against his will, he let out a moan of despair, letting his sword fall. All around him the bodies of his companions lay, hewed and hacked by Orcs and Balrogs. He had failed them, he had failed everyone, and now all was lost...._

"Nelyo!" A fair voice sounded in his ear, low and intimate, a deeply beloved caress of sound, the name itself an endearment. "Nelyo, awake." 

With a start, he came back to himself, eyes becoming aware of his surroundings. He lay in a low white bed, swaddled in warm blankets. Beside him slept Maglor, curled in against his side, and above him, Fëanor was smiling down at him, up on one elbow, a gentle hand stroking his face. "Bad dreams?"

"Yes," Maedhros said, taking a deep breath. His heart was beating hard, adrenaline still surging through his blood. He needed to be up and moving, not lying still. He moved to sit up, and Fëanor adjusted to let him out of the bed, giving him a quick kiss on the mouth as he stood up. "Where's Tyelko?" 

"Off hunting," Fëanor said. "He only left a few minutes ago, if you want to follow him." 

Maedhros wrapped himself up in a tunic and cloak, then fastened a leather belt around his waist and selected two carving knives. "I will," he said, jamming them into their sheaths on the belt. He made his way back over to Fëanor. "I wish that you could help with this, but Tyelko will be the best for it, I think." 

Fëanor cast a suspicious glance at the knives on Maedhros' belt, but drew him down for another kiss, this one lingering and slow. "I know what you have in mind," he said slowly. "I've seen your cuts and bruises before. Play carefully. Don't let Tyelko take it too far. This is not a land where healing is quick and easy, and I don't want to see you like that time when we were out exploring and far from help."

Maedhros winced. "You won't. I'll tell him. We know each other's limits better now; we were young then." 

\----

It was easy to pick up Celegorm's trail. Muddy footprints ran along the lakeside, into the forest nearby, and Maedhros followed them quickly, darting among the trees. Once in the forest he could hear the deep bark of Huan as they chased some creature. The dog's bay trailed off with a disappointed whine, signalling that they'd lost their quarry, and Maedhros ran faster, the knives on his belt rattling, until he emerged into a clearing, with his pale-haired brother at the far side of it. 

"Nelyo!" Celegorm called. "What are you doing here? Are we needed to come back to the camp?"

"No," Maedhros said, coming up to them and skidding to a halt, panting. "No. It is only I who has need of you. I've had another of the dreams, Tyelko."

"Oh," Celegorm said. He turned to the dog beside him. "Home, Huan. Go home." 

Huan gave them a puzzled look, but obediently set off, loping through the trees with graceful ease. Once he was out of sight, Celegorm pulled Maedhros close and kissed him hard. 

"Take off your clothes, and give me those knives," he said, releasing Maedhros and casting about for a soft piece of ground. Finding one underneath a tree with soft moss growing all about it, he cast his and Maedhros' cloaks to the ground. 

Maedhros stripped off quickly, exposing pale scars that looked like whiplashes, but were not. He sank to the ground, lying down on his back. "I want to watch you cut me, this time," he said. "I want to feel it through every sense, want you to tear down my reason until I am nothing but feelings." 

Celegorm sat down beside him, the smaller of the knives in his hand, pondering Maedhros as though he was a fine work of art that just needed a little more colour to be perfect, or perhaps like a roast pig that he wanted to carve up and eat. In the sky, the stars shone bright, illuminating Maedhros' shining skin and Celegorm's silver-white hair. 

He, however, did not start with a cut, but with a slap to Maedhros' inner thigh. "You can't expect me to understand what you need if you don't tell me what you dreamed," Celegorm said harshly, his voice falling into a familiar cadence. 

"I failed you, I failed Father, I failed everyone, I got myself captured," Maedhros ground out. "There were Balrogs." 

"How many Balrogs?" Celegorm asked. 

"Five at least," Maedhros said. "They surrounded me, lashing at me with their whips."

"Very well," Celegorm said. "Hold still."

The first cut was a long but shallow one across Maedhros' chest from shoulder to shoulder. It barely broke the skin, and a small amount of blood welled up. Celegorm watched it closely, and Maedhros took a long shuddering breath, closing his eyes and laying back against the cloak. He was clearly aroused, his cock standing straight up, and Celegorm took hold of it, gently moving his hand up and down on it, just enough to tantalise. 

The next cut was to Maedhros's inner thigh, the right one, beside a previous scar. Celegorm, who of them all had the most knowledge of bodies and how they worked, knew exactly where to cut so as to cause pain but not much damage. He kept his other hand on Maedhros' cock the whole time. 

Maedhros gasped in mingled pleasure and pain, the sensations blurring together in his mind. Before he could recover from the second cut, Celegorm made the third on the other thigh, down the same line. Blood welled up from the cuts, more than from the one on Maedhros' chest, and Celegorm bent down, swiping it away with his tongue, then leaning in to suck Maedhros' cock for a moment, leaving bloodstains on it when he pulled away. 

Struggling to hold still, Maedhros gasped breathlessly, balling his hands into fists. There was only the pleasure and the pain, wrapped up together in his mind, wiping it clean of all other fears and worries. His entire existence narrowed down to the painful throbbing of the three long cuts, and the pleasant throbbing of his cock. 

The fourth cut was to Maedhros's right arm, near the shoulder, and this was somewhat deeper and shorter. A howl worked its way out of Maedhros' chest when the pain hit him. He opened his eyes to see Celegorm grinning down at him with bloodstained teeth, and then lunging forward to bite at his throat. 

"Yes!" Maedhros breathed, arching upward as Celegorm left dark bruises on his neck, sucking the blood to the surface of his skin. This was more pleasure than pain, and balanced him out. 

The last cut was again, a very shallow cut, and Celegorm looked deeply into Maedhros' eyes as he made it, for this cut ran along the line of Maedhros' jaw. He held himself very still until Celegorm was done, and then a small, broken moan rose from him. He lay limp on the ground as Celegorm bent over him and kissed him, the taste of blood in his mouth. 

Returning to Maedhros' neglected cock, Celegorm once more took it into his mouth, this time not being gentle or slow at all. He worked a rough, harsh orgasm out of Maedhros quickly, teeth at times scraping along his cock, and then gathered the seed that spilled out of him, sliding down and probing between Maedhros' buttocks, opening him up, pressing deeply inside. 

"Spread your legs wider," Celegorm said, and Maedhros complied. He was bleeding and sore and post-orgasmically limp, everything transmuted into pleasure. 

Celegorm pulled his cock out of his trousers, not bothering to undress, and pushed into Maedhros, hard and fast, thrusting roughly. The cuts on Maedhros' thighs stung against the fabric of Celegorm's clothes, leaving bloodstains on them. 

"Please," Maedhros groaned, his voice almost a sob, and he brought his hands to his own throat, making clear what he wanted. Celegorm bent and took a rough kiss first, biting at Maedhros' lips. Then he put a hand on Maedhros' throat, watching his eyes go wide as his air was cut off. 

Maedhros was aroused again, his neglected erection rubbing harshly against the cloth of Celegorm's shirt. He strained upward, meeting Celegorm's hard thrusts one by one. What was pain and what was pleasure had all faded together into overwhelming sensation and he only wanted more and more of it, no matter what, no matter how far they went. 

It did not take much blood to look like a lot; Celegorm's clothes were covered in it before he finally thrust hard one last time and came, releasing Maedhros' throat. Maedhros gasped for air and brought his hand down to his own cock, quickly bringing himself off, as Celegorm collapsed down beside him, sliding out of him along with a mixture of their semen. 

They lay panting together, both of them reeking of blood and come. Pleasure was still fizzing through Maedhros' veins, and he turned to give Celegorm a long tender kiss. "Thank you," he said. "The dream has faded." 

"It is in the past," Celegorm said. "We rescued you. You are safe." 

It had indeed been Celegorm and Curufin who'd come to Maedhros' rescue, when their father lay grievously wounded on the hillside of Ered Wethrin, and a parley resulted in betrayal. The few years that had since passed were not enough yet to rescue Maedhros from the memories, but one day they would fade, with Celegorm's help. 

"Are you ready to go home?" Celegorm said, sitting up halfway. Maedhros lay sprawled out on the cloak, smiling. 

"In a moment," he said. "And when we get home, I'm certain Moryo will want to have me too, and perhaps Father." He checked himself over carefully. The bleeding had stopped from all the cuts and they were beginning to scab over. In a few hours, they would be gone entirely, except for perhaps the one on Maedhros' arm, and in a few days, only white scars would be left to tell the tale. "You know what you're doing, and we didn't go too far."

"Not like that time in the forests long ago, you mean," Celegorm said, smiling with very sharp teeth. "I enjoyed it. You enjoyed it. Father panicked." 

Maedhros smiled, placing a hand over Celegorm's. "I'm glad we have each other when we want to play rough. He doesn't have to understand it to understand that we need it from time to time." 

Celegorm nodded, and pressed a kiss to Maedhros' forehead. "Well, then, time to drag the only quarry I've cornered this day back to camp," he said, and they both laughed at the familiar, ancient, joke.


End file.
